


Just Boiling In My Blood

by HunterByDayWhovianByNight



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Apologies, Breaking Up & Making Up, F/M, Mild Sexual Content, On-Again/Off-Again Relationship, Out of Character, Reader-Insert, Slavery, like seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:34:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterByDayWhovianByNight/pseuds/HunterByDayWhovianByNight
Summary: "You don't love because: you love despite." —William FaulknerBoba Fett returns, but you (yes, you!!) won't let him take you back so easily.
Relationships: Boba Fett/Original Female Character(s), Boba Fett/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76





	Just Boiling In My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! This is for a good friend of mine who requested this after I posted my Darth Vader / Reader story a few months ago! I do take fic commissions now, so if you would like to know my rates, then email me at beckybarnes16@gmail.com for more information. Title is from "Decode" by Paramore. May the 4th be with you!
> 
> ~Hunter

“(Y/N)? Boba Fett is back in town again.”

You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes, slumping against the wall and groaning. That suave, greasy asshole was back at Jabba’s palace again, and you just knew that after making the proper introductions he’d come and find you. You two did this all the time, for years now. He had never settled, never took you with him, never did anything to actually show he cared. He made you feel used sometimes, with the way he came up to you, fooled around until he got a job, and left without saying goodbye. Every time, you promised yourself that this would be the last time. That you weren’t going to let it happen this time. That this cycle would stop.

And every time you saw him, that changed. You remembered the good times when you first met him and when he would actually take you outside the palace at night. You remembered him coming back and actually wanting to spend time with you, not just use you for his own release. The last two years were different. He became distant. Cold. Mechanic. He had no fire in him, or personality. He just expected you to be there for him, waiting. And you were; you were waiting for the old Boba to come back. Not whoever this husk was.

You knew you were a hopeless romantic. Maybe that’s why you kept trying with him, hoping that he would change. It hurt you to know that he wasn’t the man you met five years ago anymore. It was frustrating to see his helmet around here when he was home because all it did was serve to remind you that he was changed and that he no longer respected you.

“Kriff, he’s coming over here now,” you swore under your breath. You balled your fists and removed yourself from the wall. You squared your shoulders back and look defiantly in his direction, trying to show you weren’t going to let it slide this time. The other dancers around you began to mumble nervously, clearly anticipating the lovers’ spat that was about to go down. Boba Fett looked like a man on a mission as he approached you; even though you couldn’t see his eyes past his helmet, you knew they were fixed only on you. That determination used to excite you. Now it only enraged you.

(There was some part of you, buried deep beneath your frustration, that wanted him. That hoped he would get on his knees before you and apologize for the way he’s treated you these last two years. It had been five months since you saw him last-- maybe he’d had time to reflect on your relationship.)

“Well, well, well, (Y/N),” Boba said appreciatively as he approached you. You turned your face away from him and crossed your arms in front of you, blocking him from getting any closer to your body. He tried to stroke your cheek and pull your face towards him, but you jerked your face away from him, making his hand recoil in surprise.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat out. “I don’t just want to be brought back to your ship and fucked again. I’m not in the mood, even if I am just a slave here.”

Once upon a time, Boba had been your one respite against all of the sleazy members of Jabba’s palace. When you danced for Boba, it felt real. It made you forget your situation, how you were stolen from your home planet. The way he treated you made it feel that things could be different. Of course, it wasn’t as easy as that; slavery never had an easy fix, and the power imbalance was there and very, very real, but with Boba something just felt different. You told him that, once, curled up to him in a bed here in Jabba’s palace. That’s what made your on again, off again hurt so much.

“You become this sassy recently? Have I really been gone that long?” Boba asked as he leaned against the wall beside you. It was getting harder to look away from him, no matter how much you wanted to. Your fingers itched to punch him right in the center of his sight visor or grab him by his flight suit and kiss his helmet. 

“Only because you use me and leave me and don’t care,” you huffed, finally acquiescing and jerking your head in his direction to bore holes into his sight visor. If he wanted you, he was going to have to work for it. He was going to have to say and show that he was sorry for treating you so poorly. You wanted him, in that deep part of you that you had been effectively suppressing since he started walking your way. But you weren’t going to let him have you if he wasn’t going to treat you the way you deserved to be.

“What do you mean by that?” Boba asked, just as defiantly and stand-offish as you. The other dancers watching began to move away and eyes were starting to wander in the direction of you two as the argument got more heated. “Don’t I come here, right back to you, every time I’m on the planet? Isn’t that enough for you?”

“No, it’s not! You used to be different, used to treat me different!”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, you did. You…” you looked around and whispered to him, “you used to take me outside the palace walls, actually care about me and my body. You never used to expect me to fuck you.”

“Well, I figured that it was our little arrangement,” Boba said with a skeevy smile in his voice. “Besides, you look really nice in this dress and your little temper is making me want you more.”

His hand stroked your bicep, over the silver bangle he gifted you years ago when you first started your little affair. You tensed up and moved your arm away from his touch.

“You have no right to talk to me like that,” you said, shaking your head and turning your body away from his. “You’re a fucking nerf-herder, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m not the one being rude.”

“Yes you are! Can’t you understand that? All I want is to be with you, to feel like maybe this situation isn’t completely terrible, to have just one friend, one lover that I can call my own, for star’s sake,” you said. Your heart hammered against your chest and you felt tears forming in your eyes. “You’ve just been… so different these last couple years. I don’t know why I keep letting you use me and keep pretending that it’s love, because it’s not anymore. Maybe we were in love once, but it doesn’t feel that way now.”

There was silence between you two. You sniffled and wiped your tears off with your fingerless gloves, not wanting to be seen as too weak or too emotional. 

“I…” Boba started. You heard him huff in frustration, in lack of what to say. “I don’t know what to say. Would you even accept my apology if I gave you one?”

You paused.

“Depends on how genuine you are,” you said, looking over your shoulder. Boba’s head was leaning against the wall, and his arms were crossed casually in front of his chest. He looked so cool, so undeniably sexy right now. You couldn’t see his eyes, had never seen them, but you knew how to read his body language. And he was clearly trying to project strength right now-- shoulders back, casual pose-- but his labored breaths and slackened head gave away his true feelings of distress.

“I never meant-- I never meant to hurt you,” Boba said penitently. “Not intentionally, at least. My life is full of death and gunfire and chaos. Coming here, back to you, is the only thing I can consider home anymore.” 

You felt your heart soften towards him. 

“Go on,” you said with a small smile starting to spread on your face.

“I apologize,” Boba said, doing something that absolutely shocked you. He got down on one knee before you and took your hands in his. “And I want to make it up to you. I want to be there for you, and listen to you. I don’t want you to feel like I’ve been using you anymore.”

Your tears began to hotly fall down your face and blur your vision. You couldn’t help but smile.  _ This  _ was the Boba you knew, the Boba that you wanted. This was nothing like the gunslinging, cocky, sexually-charged Boba that had begun to dominate his personality as of late.

“Tell me everything I’ve done wrong, and tell me how to be better for you,” Boba said as he stood up and held you in his arms. “Because I don’t want to lose you.”

“Oh, Boba…” you smiled. You placed your arms on his biceps and let him pull you closer to him. It was like a cheesy holofilm.

“And really,” Boba said, placing his hand on your cheek and holding your face, “I don’t want to lose you when you’re wearing this dress.”

You snorted and laughed aloud at his cheesy comment. 

“What, you think I look nice like this?” you asked, wiping the tears off your cheeks, careful to not smudge your eyeliner.

“You look more than nice, you look damn sexy,” Boba said, dragging his hand down your neck and collarbones, to the deep v of your black dress. You felt your breath catch in your throat and shifted in his arms, trying to get closer. “Would you dance for me?”

“You really want me to dance for you here, in front of everyone? I wouldn’t want you getting jealous,” you said with a flirty raise of your eyebrows.

“Stars, the things you do to me,” Boba said. He ghosted his hand over your breast and you couldn’t help but stand on your toes and plant a kiss on the right cheek of his helmet. You longed to actually kiss his lips one day. And when he pulled you away from the wall, towards the rooms you knew he had here at the palace, you felt that maybe, just maybe, this was the path to something different between you two.

A new start.

**Author's Note:**

> me, in ya brain: kudos/comment on this fic  
> you: but why  
> me, in ya brain: you gotta
> 
> ~Hunter


End file.
